Orion's Toolbelt

On the Count of Three...

Story-weaving for the uninitiated

by The White Lily

Ever been astounded by the magnificent tapestry of plot threads that someone else has put together? Ever looked at your own paltry efforts to imitate and realised you could never do anything even close? Ever had trouble walking the line between adequate foreshadowing and completely giving away your ending? Ever wondered whether your themes are completely overplayed or practically absent? Ever wondered how you can make the end of your story just rock your readers in place?

Some people seem to simply write brilliance straight off the cuff, and I've got no idea how they do it. But let me show you how I manage to fake my way through...

Everyone who I've ever betaed for, or who's bounced a plot bunny off me, or who's had the misfortune of stumbling across a forum post I've made while in a wordy mood, has known this article was coming. Of all my myriad rules for writing, the Rule Of Three is my own personal hobby-horse, and you know why?

It really works.

 

Part 1: So what is this Rule of Three thing?

Simple. Mention everything three times. Every plot element; every image; every theme; every concept; every minor character; every object; every important thing in your story. Three times.

Wait! Come back! I'm not insane, I promise!

Think about your favourite moment where everything comes together in a book or movie or fic. Then think about each element which came together to make that moment what it was, and look back for the scenes that made it possible. I'll bet that you come to a total count of three for each element.

I know I always seem to. And I've been obsessively counting threes for ages. But why? Why do I keep seeing threes wherever I go?

I've got so many examples - one of my favourites is Finding Nemo, which follows the Rule of Three so religiously that I think that someone at Pixar must have come to the same conclusion as me. Everything from the number of times the yellow fish goes insane over a stream of bubbles, to the way we watch Nemo learn how to escape from a net - from Marlin's count of near nervous breakdowns at Nemo's behaviour, to the age of sea turtles. I've counted upwards of thirty separate sets of three in that film - but never does it feel formulaic or overly laboured by the time we reach the third mention; on the count of three, everything just falls into place.

But let's go back to some Artemis Fowl examples, since that's why we're here, and I'll show you just a few of countless ways to use your threes...

 

Part 2: Okaaay, that sounds reasonable. But doesn't including three references to the same thing all the time get boring?

Pattern 1: Tell them what you're going to tell them. Tell them. Tell them what you've told them.

We've probably all heard this maxim of public speaking and essay writing. As far as those are concerned, the Rule of Three isn't just a good idea: it's essential. But even though a fic isn't an essay, and certainly shouldn't be one, the same principle can be applied to great effect.

How else would you describe the prologues and epilogues on the Artemis Fowl books? In the first book, we get introduced to the title character and his moral ambiguity in the prologue, giving us a frame of reference where we can place the character as we read on. Then, after all is said and done, Colfer reiterates Artemis's marvellous greyness in the epilogue, in case we'd somehow forgotten it after the scene with his mother.

But you don't need to go all the way to having a prologue to use this trick. Many stories - once you look for it - have some kind of introduction and conclusion which respectively foreshadow and sum up the main plot, whether that's a sentence, or a whole chapter, or just a few words.

Pattern 2: Introduce the object. Remind the reader. Make it integral to the plot.

So, you've got a random but essential part of the climax - an object, a fact, a concept - it doesn't matter. But how do you make sure that your readers know about it beforehand, without guessing its significance? Using this pattern to disguise your foreshadowing is really quite fun, because it just feels so dishonest.

First find a place to explain the item. Then find a place to use it in a casual or incidental way, fixing it in the reader's mind. Then, and only then, bring it back at a climactic moment.

Who loved the way Holly managed to signal to Commander Root in LEPrecon? I know I did! That signal board of hers follows the Rule of Three. First, its function was explained as she used it for its original purpose. Second, it served to embarrass her in front of Root when she turned up at his office. And third, it was critical to the plot. At that stage, everyone knew exactly what it was, no one was going to forget it, and everyone slapped their foreheads that they hadn't thought of it first.

Without that reminder in the middle, the signal board would have seemed like a completely arbitrary plot device - a rabbit pulled out of a hat to pull Holly out of a sticky situation. It probably started like that, but with a bit of a wink and a bit of a nudge earlier on, turned into something that is truly a joy to read.

Now, this is an obvious example. It can and often is done much more subtly - I usually only notice these threes on the second time through a book when I already understand the context and know what's important enough for me to count. But make no mistake - a throwaway reminder line does register in the reader's subconscious, even if they don't have the context to understand its significance until later.

Pattern 3: Tell it once. Tell it twice. Tell it with a twist.

Angeline's madness in the first book is such an important part of Artemis's character.

Care to hazard a guess how many times he sees her? The first time, she seems moderately normal at first, until she starts worrying about "them". The second time, her behaviour is so delusional that she's cemented in our minds as Really A Total Fruitcake. The third time, she's totally healed, and we suddenly realise that, however truly evil our Arty is, he's also a true hero. This may have actually been the moment that made the book for me - and certainly the one that started my love affair with Artemis's parents as characters.

It's a rare story that isn't fundamentally about change, whether in the perspective of the characters or the state of their environment. But to show a change, we first have to establish a pattern. In this case, we have two examples of Angeline's madness to do that. Any more than that would have darkened the tone of the book immeasurably - or perhaps even become boring. The third mention gives us the twist which makes it relevant - the twist which makes it into a happy wonderful children's book.

Pattern... the rest of them: Be creative. You're a writer, after all.

There are countless other ways to use threes. Everything from the fundamentals of character development (Show the character failing. Show the character learning/struggling. Make everything hinge on the character succeeding.) to simply repeating a single element three times to reinforce a theme or pervasive image, from having characters utter one another's thoughts or unconsciously echoing another character's wording.

When I go looking, there's always a stack of things in my fic that turn up twice. Add one more mention somewhere else... and you've got a three. Simple.

 

Part 3: Thanks a heap, Lily, my fic's about to double in size. Now what?

Um... welcome to the club?

Seriously, don't worry - this is the bit where you get to be very clever. And this, I find, is one of the most rewarding parts of writing threeness: weaving.

My original inspiration for the Rule of Three was actually Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, my standout favourite of the Harry Potter books. (Is it coincidence that it's Book Three? I think not!) I've never actually gone through and counted mentions, but it was that story that sent my brain spinning with the idea of disparate plot threads woven together, each touching several other threads along the way. In short: seeing my plot as a tapestry.

The thing is: it doesn't actually help all that much to go back and randomly insert new scenes simply to increase the count of various plot threads. Or it does, but... your plot is likely to end up being completely disjointed, not to mention rather obvious as far as foreshadowing goes. Subtlety is the order of the day, and writing whole new scenes to serve a single purpose can only lead to a lack of focus in your fic.

Instead, what you need to do is find places to twist your plot threads together; to slyly insert another mention of a particular thread without drastically increasing your word count by merging it with another few threads at each anchor point.

For example: Colfer connects Angeline's insanity to the character development of Artemis's softer side, but also to Arty's concrete plans in the form of her sleeping pills, and to the tentative formation of a bond between Holly and Artemis. The troll does some serious character development for Holly, furthers the Cudgeon/Root subplot, and gives Butler his chance to show what he's really made of.

It's these connections that weave the story together and make it "tight". If the troll had been given a disconnected plotline that gave rise to the awesome scene with Butler, or if it had only served to illustrate Holly's character in all three appearances, its presence might have seemed random. Similarly, if Angeline's insanity had been all the mushy emotional stuff, with no relevance to the action plot, it wouldn't have come together with quite the same impact as it had.

The point is, when the threads are all tied in at both ends and the middle, and to each other all the way through, that's when a piece really gets tight and ready to be published. And it actually makes it easier to write, too! Instead of having to think up a brand new scene and fit it in around the others, all you have to do is work out how to morph an existing concept to carry an extra passenger as well.

It's this weaving that I find one of the most rewarding parts of polishing a fic. Finding a way for one of those threads I've been trying to anchor to become that little bit more relevant to everything else I've already written is the major cause of actual out-loud cheering in my house.

... and this is where my obsession really starts. Because most of the examples I've provided are of big things - things you'll recognise because they're the things that will definitely have stuck in your mind. But anything can be threed. Anything you want to stick in the reader's mind, anything that turns up in your fic as a surprise, anything that you don't even expect the reader to notice on a conscious level. Once you start pulling out threads and counting them, you'll find yourself including themes and images, noticing patterns in your own writing that you'd never even known you were capable of producing.

I usually end up needing a spreadsheet to keep all my threes and plot threads straight. Plot threads/images/themes/other threes are across the top, the scenes in my fic go down the page. Each box in the spreadsheet gets a tick or a cross so that I can instantly see which threads need more tying in and which scenes aren't particularly relevant. Although taking things to this extent might just be because I'm totally obsessive.

 

Part 4: You're - er - starting to foam at the mouth a bit, Lily. Will you hurt me if I stray from the True Path of Threeness?

So here's the part where I tell you to forget the rule. It doesn't always apply.

What?! - I hear you all gasp - The White Lily advocating anything not in threes? But yes, it does happen. Very occasionally.

The first question I always get after I've convinced someone of the value of threeness and they're trying to apply it to their fic is: "Can I use more than three?" Because finding ways to tie threads into new places is easy, once your brain's going in the right direction. It's calling a halt to those ideas that's harder, and suddenly the same flower Juliet randomly sees from her window will be turning up on the grave Holly visits, and in Lili Frond's hair when she's leaving early for her date, and in the flower arrangement Angeline is making, and in the buttonhole of Artemis's business contact, and in the foyer of the hotel he and Butler are staying at, and suddenly you'll realise that it also solves a plot difficulty you've been having because it can be a poisonous flower that...

Too much repetition can get very annoying, very fast. You can hardly ever go wrong with only three, but the answer is yes, of course you can add in more references. If your references are more subtle. Or if your story is particularly long, or with chapters posted incrementally and far apart. Or if you want the thread to be particularly strong. Or if two mentions are so close together that they might as well be one. Or if a scene or line simply seems unnatural without a reference, now that you're thinking about it. Conversely, in a drabble, a three can come across very strongly; apart from one central theme it may be better to stick to two references.

Proceed with care when adding in more than three references or leaving things with only double. But don't use this rule as an excuse to override common sense or your instincts, if they're screaming at you to add in or leave out another reference.

Threeness is a tool - a very valuable tool, and a tool that I believe has fundamentally changed my writing for the better, even if I'm now completely impossible to watch a movie with for fear that I'll leap from my seat without warning and cry "THREE!" - but it's just another tool to add to your belt. Even if you don't reach my level of obsession, I hope it can help in yours as well.

So, good luck, and happy writing!